


...what happens next

by Little_Plebe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy thinks Steve is old-fashioned, F/M, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, he IS but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 01:46:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8558416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Plebe/pseuds/Little_Plebe
Summary: Prompt: “If you kiss my neck, I’m not responsible for what happens next.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my folder for close to a month now. I'm so insecure about this, it's not even funny. Must have edited it several times before settling for this. Dunno if it's well written or not but I wanted to step out of my comfort zone, so here's a mature rated story ~~for you to judge~~ and a [manip](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/153186040519/what-happens-next-it-was-their-second) to go with it.

It was their second date. Well, technically, their sixth or seventh date. The first few had been confused with friendly hang out sessions until one fine day, Darcy decided to hell with it and kissed Steve when he was least expecting it. She had lured him closer on the pretense of asking him to taste the gravy she had prepared but, instead of the spatula, he was met with her lips.

He had no doubt been stunned by her forwardness but responded enthusiastically once the shock wore off. They tried to keep it chaste that first time, mostly because she assumed Steve to be old-fashioned and preferring a proper courtship, but Darcy was having a hard time keeping her hands off him. He was hard and warm and perfectly cut. And he did things like give her foot massages, bring her coffee every morning, pay attention when she talked to him and if that wasn’t the sexiest quality in a man, she didn’t know what was.

He kissed really well, too. She often wondered what his lips would feel like on parts of her body other than her mouth. Oh, what wouldn’t she give to test his skillset in the bedroom?

But she was afraid to push him, having no idea how he would react to her sexual advances. So, with a heavy heart, she pulled back from their end-of-date-mandatory-makeout-session and said, “Steve, I think that’s enough for…”

He drew her in for another kiss, easily slipping his tongue into her mouth and sucking on her lips until she forgot what she wanted to say to him. One of his arms was wrapped firmly around her waist and the other came up to cup her neck, pushing the hair there out of the way. The drag of lips across her jaw, heading south, brought Darcy back to her senses.

“Steve,” she rasped, pulling away yet again.

His eyes were on her neck, where his thumb rubbed distracting circles on her pulse point. Oh, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

“Time for you to leave. Busy day tomorrow. Come on, chop chop.”

He raised his eyes to shoot her a confused look. “Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

Shit!

“Only in theory,” Darcy stammered quickly. “Terrorists and aliens don’t check the calendar before attacking us. We have to be prepared for everything… can’t discount Sundays like that—Steve!”

He had stopped listening to her, more interested in dropping butterfly kisses down the length of her jaw while she nervously rambled on. He was no longer rubbing circles on her neck. His fingers were now hooked around the strap of her tank top, slowly tugging it down her shoulder. Darcy, knowing what was coming next, took in a shaky breath and decided that a disclaimer was in order.

“If you kiss my neck, I’m not responsible for what happens next.”

Steve paused in his ministrations to huff out a laugh.

“I’m serious,” insisted Darcy but he only looked amused, probably thinking that she was pulling his leg like she sometimes liked to do.

Mind you, she did want him to kiss her… pretty much everywhere. But her neck had always been her weakness and touching her there made her go crazy. Crazy as in _there’s no way we’re just going to be necking after this unless you want me to spontaneously combust_.

Despite her fairly gracious warning, he bent his head to press a kiss over her pulse point. It was a mere brush of lips, soft and hesitant, but Darcy felt it to her very core. Her nails scratched his collar in an attempt to bring him closer when he kissed the same spot again, this time more firmly. The breath she had been holding rushed out in a hiss and her eyes fluttered shut. _Oh, God_.

Steve hummed low in his chest, peppering soft kisses down the slope of her neck, a warm hand running up and down her bare arm before coming to settle at her nape. Her toes curled from the sensations and Darcy whimpered. She carded her fingers in his soft blonde hair and held him in place, biting her lip as he got bolder in his attentions. The gentle press of his mouth had now progressed to the next level as Steve parted his lips and sucked wet hot kisses on her neck, eagerly tasting her skin again and again until her head fell back in surrender, one shockwave after another zipping through her body.

It hurt so _good_. She could feel her body lighting up for him; feel her stomach swoop and her head spin. She was melting in his arms and they hadn’t even gotten to the good parts yet. Steve continued pressing harmless kisses to her skin, dragging his nose over her collar bone and circling to the other side of her neck for a detailed exploration of the area, and unable to control herself anymore, Darcy gave in to the urge to shift closer and press her breasts against him in order to ease some of the tension coiling low in her belly. Her nipples felt raw and achy and desperately in need of some action.

Steve let out a low groan as their bodies came together, his hands reflexively pulling her further into him before he drew away, gasping out her name. “What… what are you—?”

He was met with her lips, hard and insistent, as impatient hands yanked at his shirt and snuck underneath to trace the fine lines of his torso. Steve groaned again when her nails scraped over his pecs and he broke the kiss to bury his face in the crook of her neck.

“What ha… what happened to—shit—going slow?” He had difficulty getting out the words. His lips skittered unevenly over her skin and his breath came in gasps. It was sexy as shit!

She wanted to tell him that she had decided to go slow because of him, that she had fantasized about his mouth on her since the day he had smiled at her and introduced himself, that the _mere_ memory of him was enough to make her come apart every night in the confines of her bedroom, but Darcy wasn’t fond of wasting time. She already had him in her apartment. All she had to do now was figure out ways to quickly divest him of his clothes. He had ignored her disclaimer. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t let him go now. She was too far gone to display that kind of nobility or whatever it was called.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered simply, purposely rubbing against him, making him shudder and buck into her.

He lifted his head from her shoulder and latched onto her lips again, kissing her long and slow, stealing the breath right from her lungs, setting her insides on fire. Darcy moaned and tried to burrow closer. It wasn’t enough. There were too many layers between them and they needed to come off.

Steve froze and pulled back in surprise when he heard twin pops and the first two buttons of his shirt dropped to the floor with identical clinks.

“Darcy, I like this shirt.”

She barely heard him, letting out a shameless whine and following him, seeking his warmth. He halfheartedly put on some resistance when she pushed him toward the couch but the moment her back hit the cushions, he sunk down on her, finding her lips with his and kissing the living daylights out of her. He was clearly turned on just as much as she was. But he must still have some reservations about what was going to happen next (oh, it was definitely happening) because he wasn’t touching her in the right places.

Darcy huffed and wrapped a leg around him. “Touch me, Steve.”

When he merely dropped his head to kiss the underside of her jaw, Darcy thrust her hips into his in frustration. His reaction was immediate. A loud hiss escaped him and his teeth clamped down on the skin of her neck, sucking hard. Darcy’s eyes flew open as the shock of it rippled through her body and she practically bowed off the couch, fingers finding purchase on his shoulders, nails digging painfully into his skin. She let out a long, low moan that caused Steve to push himself on his elbows and stare at her in awe.

“Darce,” he whispered and she felt the low rumble of his voice right between her legs. Breathing heavily and eyes dark and hooded, he was a sight to behold.

Shit, she was going to explode right there if he kept looking at her like that. Either Steve had mad skills or Darcy was embarrassingly wanton if a few great kisses could build her up so quickly. She was _so_ close and he wasn’t even bloody touching her yet!

She fixed a glare on him and threatened, “If you don’t put your hands to good use right now…”

He cut her off with a quick peck on the lips. “Are you sure?”

“Are you friggin’ serious?” She grabbed his wrist and shoved his hand inside her shorts until his fingers rested between her legs. His eyes widened. “Can you feel how sure I am?”

Steve gulped and nodded. He held still for a moment, his gaze conflicted, then his baser urges kicked in and the fingers inside her shorts started moving. Darcy exhaled, preparing herself for some mind-blowing sex. Steve sunk back into her, swallowing her gasps and moans with long drawn out kisses that made her see stars.

He quickly took charge after that and once his other hand started roving over her body, the world around them simply stopped existing and nothing else mattered. In fact, Darcy had no recollection of being undressed. All she remembered was the feeling of skin against skin, the length of him snug inside her slick warmth, thrusting rhythmically even as his hands roamed freely and his lips marked her wherever they could. She remembered broken whispers and compliments like _‘so beautiful, doll, you’re so beautiful’_. She remembered something like electricity coursing through her veins and the incredibly embarrassing sounds that burst forth from her during their tryst.

When Darcy opened her eyes again, they were on her bed, bodies partially covered by a thin white sheet that tickled her ribs whenever it fluttered. She blamed post-coital haze for having no idea how they got there from the floor. Steve had probably carried her. He was stretched out beside her, his hand stroking over her belly and squeezing her waist. Darcy sighed happily. She felt sated and tingly all over.

“That was amazing.”

“Which time?” teased Steve.

She pretended to think about it. “The couch, I think. No wait, the kitchen counter was pretty great as well.” She paused and smirked. “Nah, bedroom floor was the best.”

To be honest, there was no contest at all. Sex with Steve in any position, on any surface was earth-shatteringly fantastic but Darcy had to admit, they had done a few things on the bedroom floor that she had never done before. Turned out that Steve Rogers was no saint and he had worked her up until she was screaming his name for the world to hear.

He slid a hand up the inside of her thigh and said, “You think we should christen the bed?”

Darcy laughed. They had been too impatient to get to the bed earlier and now that they had finally made it there, the idea sounded appealing. But Steve had exhausted her and, for now, she just wanted to sleep.

“Tomorrow,” she promised, smacking his wandering hand. “Now let me sleep.”

Always a man with a plan, Steve was far from discouraged. He shifted closer and curled a bulky arm around her waist, lifting her and angling her limp body toward his. Her head remained on the pillow even as her body pressed enticingly into him. He lifted her some more and her head tipped back. Darcy belatedly realized his intentions. The new arched position exposed the entire column of her throat to his eyes and, before she could protest, he lowered his mouth and sunk his teeth into her flesh.

Darcy cried out, hand coming to grip his elbow, thighs trembling and skin already heating up in anticipation.

“Still want to sleep?” Steve murmured, licking the mark he had left on her to ease off the sting.

“You,” Darcy accused breathlessly, “are a rascal.”

Steve didn’t reply, a slow smile spreading on his lips. He knew he had her full attention now.


End file.
